Beginning of the End
by Enchanted1
Summary: This is before Wild at Heart, it happens a few hours before Oz and Willow go to the Bronze and Oz sees Veruca for the first time. I wrote this a long time ago...so if it sucks, sorry!


Title: Beginning of the End  
Author: Enchanted  
Rating: PG   
A/N: I found this on my computer after frantically trying every damn password in the world. Who knew that the two passwords were BTVS and SethGreen??? Damn. Anyways. This takes place the afternoon before Oz and Willow go to the Bronze and see Veruca. This was written a looooong time ago, so if it sucks, well, sorry. I'm aware that something in this fic probably clashes with the show, but hey, writer's license. **flashes license**  
  
~*~  
  
I think I'm in heaven. Who else but me could think that? After all, it's only U.C. Sunnydale...a whole building dedicated to the absorbing of knowledge process. But, see, it's more than that. I know that life is more than knowledge and wicca and fighting the good fight. I know that without friends, you might as well throw in the towel, cause you'll never get through a day without being too lonely. And I have friends. Buffy and Xander and Anya and, dare I say it, Cordy have been through almost everything with me. Almost everything that matters, anyways. I also know that I've got Oz.  
  
As of right now, we are walking through the path on campus, my hand intertwined in his, and I know what it's like to be in heaven.   
  
Oz. A mixture of complexity in one syllable. He's quiet only because he wants to be, but when he speaks, what he says is witty, deep, and strangely sarcastic. I never know if he's joking or if he's dead serious. Then again, he doesn't need to say anything at all. His smile speaks millions of words to me. Words that only I know the meaning of.   
  
He's so perfect for me. As if he was custom-created. He's so gentle. So sweet. So strange, but that's ok, because I'm Willow, and strange happens to be my middle name. Huh. Willow Strange Rosenberg. Has a nice ring to it.  
  
And you know what the best part is? He loves me for me. All the quirky, offbeat things I am. He thinks it's cute when I babble or when I'm giddy or even when I scold him. In the deal of getting someone I love so wholeheartedly, I get a protector, too. It's so wonderful, for lack of a better word.  
  
Oz. My protector. Oz, the savior. I giggle at how it sounds.   
  
As if he had woken up from a deep sleep by my laugh, he turns to me and flashes me a knowing look. His blue eyes glint with a light that seems so hard to find in other guys. Well, that's not true. Angel had that light in his eyes whenever he was with Buffy. Xander had it whenever he was around Cordy. I don't see it yet with Anya, but I know it'll come.   
  
Oz's hair flies every which way, as if he just doesn't care. But I know he does care. More than he can ever put in words, so he just never talks.  
  
"Quarter for your thoughts," he says simply.  
  
"Quarter?" My questioning tone is enough to make him explain.  
  
"Well, I thought a penny would be too cheap, and I don't wanna cheapen your thoughts," he shrugged. "Or, we could go up to a dollar."  
  
"No, a quarter's fine," I say hurriedly. There's a comfortable silence that stretches on until he nudges me.  
  
"Are you gonna tell me?" he inquires, still as reserved as ever.  
  
"Oh! I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you." There's another silence as Oz shakes his head, that little smile lurking on his kissable lips.  
  
"Quarter for your thoughts?" I ask, using his words.  
  
"You're not the lucky one," he answers, meeting my eyes with his. The warm stomach feeling that comes whenever he says something like that attacks me. I could melt right now if I wanted. In the figurative way, of course. I love him. I will never stop loving him.  
  
~*~  
  
She says she's lucky. To have me. Is she kidding? I have never loved anyone else in my whole life but her. I loved her the instant I saw her in her Eskimo costume, (which she never wore again) and I loved her when I saw her crossing the street, oblivious to me, and I loved her even when she and Xander had a thing going on behind my back.  
  
I love her so much that if God came down right now and said to me, "It's either Willow or the rest of the human population," I would say, "Take the human population. Just leave Willow with me. We can re-populate the world again. Who cares if they're all little wolfies three nights a month?" Except in not so many words.  
  
With a life of its own, my right hand goes up to stroke a strand of her red hair back from her gem-like eyes. Her hair is so sexy. That provocative flash of color that stands out in the endless sea of browns and yellow. I twirl a finger around the strand and stare at the sunlight flickering across it, making her hair seem dappled. She giggles again, a melody that works its way into my heart, until it's stopped beating for being so close to her.  
  
She was willing to give it a chance even when I almost killed her the night she came to 'make the first move'. There was nothing that would deter her from being my girl. And nothing would ever deter me from being her boy.   
  
We continue walking, floating on air, separate from all the other students here. See, they all have their own boyfriends or girlfriends, but they're nothing compared to the two of us. Me and Willow, we're together for always. The witch and the werewolf.  
  
I think this is the happiest I've ever been in my life. I remember Devon told me one day, after introducing me to Cordy, that I could have any girl I wanted.  
  
I have the only girl I ever wanted. Or is it the other way around?  
  
We're here. At the dorm. And we have at least three hours till the sun goes down. Without even saying anything, she closes the door, latches it, and comes to my arms. Our lips touch, pull apart, and then come back together with more force. It's never ceased to thrill me, doing this with Willow. She's tender and so innocent even when she's been faced with having to destroy the evilest things on this Earth.  
  
She's the lucky one? No. Not even true. I am. I'm lucky to even be considered one of her loved ones.  
  
Time stops for a few precious moments as I sink into bliss. Ever wonder what it looks like? It looks like an ocean of fire, the color of Willow's beautiful hair.  
  
I love her. I will never stop loving her.  
  
~*~  
  
Willow ran her fingers over Oz's bare chest, smiling happily. They both locked glances for a second and then they both looked away. "Do you love me, Oz?" she whispered, waiting for his answer.  
  
"More than I can ever say." He stroked the side of her cheek. "What about you?"  
  
Willow paused in skimming her fingers tantalizingly against his stomach and wondered how she would word this. "If you're ever gone," she began, "I'll be ripped physically in half. I never looked for love, Oz, but you came. And I'm starting to think that words are useless whenever it comes to this subject." Feeling strangely inarticulate, she snuggled up to Oz, who laughed at her statement and put an arm around her.   
  
"Now you know how I feel."  
  
The hour passed.  
  
"Where are we going tonight?" Oz questioned as he pulled on his clothes.  
  
"The Bronze. There's supposed to be a band there that supposedly kicks ass. They're called Shy. The lead singer is called...Veronica or something? You up to that?"  
  
"Anywhere with you," he said simply.  
  
Willow smiled. What did she do to deserve him? "I love you," she told him.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
They braided their bodies together for an instant and shared a spectacular kiss. And then they walked out of the room together, headed for the Bronze, and, unknowingly, a future that would tear them apart. If they could come back together was unknown, too. It depended on their strength and how much they really loved each other.  
  
Tonight was the beginning of the end. 


End file.
